


I Dreamed of You

by notsodarling



Series: no more keepin' score [6]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Two Idiots Who Love Each Other A Lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/notsodarling
Summary: Alex's home after a week long work trip, and is it any surprise they can't keep their hands off each other?
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: no more keepin' score [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057037
Comments: 22
Kudos: 73





	I Dreamed of You

**Author's Note:**

> This is the continuation of "I Thought of You," which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079043).
> 
> Title from "evermore" by Taylor Swift. (Yes, I am still on my bullshit.)
> 
> <3

Michael lets Alex push him against the door frame, hands on his face, and in his hair as they kiss, lips pressing together, both of them hungry for the contact. For a moment, Michael forgets everything else, and focuses only on Alex's touch. He feels punch-drunk on it, and tries to keep Alex pulled against him.

Reluctantly, he lets Alex pull away, watches as he moves back towards the table, but keeping a firm grasp on Michael's hand the whole time, gently tugging him along. So Michael goes, falling into the chair next to Alex's, and waits as Alex takes a sip of his tea.

"How are you home? I thought you said-"

"Tomorrow was just a scheduled travel day, so I had my meeting this morning, and then changed my flight to get home sooner. I still had to be on base today to make up for it, but after the meeting this morning, there was nothing left that I couldn't leave."

Michael eyes Alex's military outfit, and raises an eyebrow.

"And since I'm home early, I also technically don't have to go anywhere tomorrow," Alex continues, staring back at Michael.

"Good," Michael replies, hands reaching out, landing on Alex's legs, resting on his thighs, taking the hint. "I wasn't going to let you leave anyway."

He lets Alex finish eating, listening as Alex tells him the details of his trip that he can, everything short of the actual classified briefings and meetings. They leave the dishes on the table, agreeing to take care of it in the morning, and finally retreat back into the bedroom.

"Is that my hoodie," Alex says, immediately bee-lining to his side of the bed where the blankets are pushed back, the pillows thrown about, and Alex's Air Force hoodie is bunched up near the headboard. Michael thinks he may have woken up with his face pressed into it.

He doesn't say anything, just stands in the middle of the floor, grinning.

" _Michael._ " The way Alex says his name sounds more like a whine this time, a quiet pleading to him. Alex drops the hoodie from his hands, crosses the room to where Michael is standing, not stopping until they crash together, the force almost causing Michael to lose his balance - and wouldn’t that be something to see the two of them tumbling to the floor in a heap of limbs and laughter.

"Michael," Alex says again in between breaths against his lips, and Michael pushes his fingers underneath the regulation t-shirt Alex is still wearing, pressing into the skin, pulling Alex against him. He slides his hands up, pushing the shirt up and over Alex's head, letting it fall to the ground, but not caring where it lands. "Do you - do you mind-"

Michael pulls back immediately at the question in Alex's voice.

"Sorry, sorry," Alex continues, leaning in quick to capture Michael's lips one more time, and he waits. "I was on a plane and then at the base and I refuse to crawl under those sheets like this."

With a nod, Michael untangles himself from Alex, and collapses onto the bed, situating himself with a clear view through the doorway into the ensuite, where Alex is sitting on the edge of the tub, going through the process of removing his prosthetic. The thought crosses his mind to join Alex in the shower, but he stays where he is instead, letting the anticipation build just knowing Alex is home. He half remembers Alex's duffel bag laying on the floor in the hallway, now forgotten, and gets up to retrieve it.

Back in the bedroom, he drops it on the floor next to the dresser, leaving it for Alex to unpack later, and falls back onto the bed, listening for the sound of the shower.

Once again, he's overcome with the desire to join Alex, but resists, knowing it's just because _Alex is home_ , he's here, and Michael hasn't quite gotten to have his way with him yet. He palms against himself over his boxers, half hard and aching to be touched. It doesn't help, it just makes him feel more desperate and Michael moans, half in frustration, half because it does still feel good. But it's nowhere near enough, not when it could be Alex's hand instead.

He lets a moment of doubt creep through him, reminding him that he and Alex have gone much, _much_ , longer without having sex. But that was back when there wasn't much of a _them_ , when Michael had never been sure when Alex would be back in Roswell. And even after, when Alex had come back, the years they'd spent figuring it all out, learning how to be friends, learning how to be good for each other - somehow they'd both managed to keep themselves from falling into bed together.

"Have I ever told you," comes Alex's voice from somewhere off to his left. "How much I love the modifications you made in the shower for me?"

Michael smiles, opening his eyes to see Alex standing at the dresser, watching as he grabs a pair of boxers for himself, crutch nestled under the elbow of his right arm. Alex crosses the room to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, and leaning his crutch against the nightstand, dropping the clean boxers on the bed, and turning toward him.

"You're just saying that to get in my pants," Michael teases, reaching out and running a hand against Alex's back, fingertips skimming over the skin.

Alex smiles, shifting to lean down, and pressing their lips together. "Is it working?"

Michael laughs, reaching out and pulling Alex down on top of him, reveling in the feel of all of Alex against all of himself. He feels Alex's hands move upward, digging into his curls as they kiss, and _fuck_ , Michael had missed that. One whole week without it, and he was a mess - was this what it was like to be so in love with someone you couldn't even go _seven days_ without their touch?

But Alex apparently has other ideas, sliding down his body, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips down to the inside of his thigh, pulling Michael's boxers down and off his legs, and pushing his legs apart. He watches as Alex takes him in hand, guiding him into his mouth, and Michael almost loses his composure at the feeling, his hands moving into Alex's hair, needing to touch him, needing to maintain contact somehow.

Words aren't even possible at the moment as Michael closes his eyes, head straining against the pillow underneath. He can feel himself getting hard, the sensation of Alex's mouth, tongue working against the too sensitive skin, and as if reading his mind, Alex pulls off before he can get anywhere close to a release, and Michael groans at the loss. Alex shifts back in the bed, crawling up and half on top of him, sensations of skin on skin sending Michael into a frenzy again, and he can't help but press his lips to any accessible part of Alex's body - his arm, his chest, his shoulder.

Alex settles himself on top of Michael's thighs, and Michael sees it was the bottle of lube he'd retrieved from the drawer of the bedside table. He watches, transfixed, as Alex coats his fingers and reaches behind himself, his gaze never leaving Michael's as he preps himself, his cheeks a lovely rosy red from the shower still, his hair damp and sticking in odd directions from Michael running his fingers through it.

"I would have-"

"I know," Alex replies with a smile, eyes closing and Michael knows he's not going to last. He feels like that seventeen year old boy again, happy and excited, who nearly went out of his mind the moment Alex had wrapped his hand around him that first time. It hadn’t even been the first time someone else had touched him that way, and yet, _and yet,_ there has always been something about being with Alex that makes him feel more in everything.

He reaches up, hands on Alex's face as he gently pulls him down, mouths crashing together, starving for contact.

Alex pulls away after a moment, sliding lips down Michael’s chest, before he's shifting, leveraging himself up, and taking hold of Michael to line himself up, and it all feels so good, too good, Michael wants to close his eyes and get lost in the feeling, but be keeps them open, watching as Alex lowers himself, the tightness around him, is almost too much. He focuses on staying still, not bucking his hips upward to meet Alex, letting him set the pace.

Alex's gaze locks with his own as be slowly works out a rhythm, and Michael reaches out, hands landing on Alex's thighs, keeping the contact. It doesn't last long before Alex is falling forward, bracing himself above Michael, their faces inches apart, as Alex keeps up his pace, steadily increasing, and all Michael can focus on his the heat, the tightness, and _Alex_.

It’s good, it’s _great,_ but Michael wants more. Grabbing hold of Alex, Michael flips them, puts Alex on his back, feeling himself slip out, and reaching down to line himself back up, pressing his forehead against Alex's chest as he pushes back in, his orgasm so _so close_. He tries to find a rhythm that isn't akin to jackhammer, but he's close, _so close_ , lost in feeling nothing except the heat and tightness.

His orgasm hits as he pushes back into Alex, choking out a moan into the skin of Alex's shoulder, and the feeling of Alex's arms wrapped around him, hands on him, pulling their bodies together. He lets himself slip out of Alex, mouth open against skin, his own breathing heavy as he comes down from the high, Alex's fingertips dancing along the skin of his back.

After a moment he opens his eyes, lifting his head up and meeting Alex's, who is watching him, waiting and Michael surges forward, pressing their lips together. It's harder, more forceful than he means, but Alex pushes back into him, hands on the side of his face, keeping him close. Pulling away, Alex's hands leave his face, and travel down his own body, taking himself in hand, and Michael watches memorized at how Alex touches himself, the way he keens so beautifully at the movements, and it's barely a decision in his mind before he's shifting down on the bed, leveraging himself between Alex's legs, pushing then apart as his own body half hangs off the edge of the bed.

He puts a hand over Alex's, stilling his movements and pulling it away, and instead with his gaze never leaving Alex's, takes him into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl across the delicate skin.

" _Fuck_ ," Alex groans from above him, hips bucking up into the air, and Michael would smile if he could. Instead he pulls back, letting most of Alex slip out of his mouth, before capturing all of him again, filling his mouth again. Michael reaches up as he works, grabbing Alex's hand and lacing their fingers together tightly, the other gripping Alex's hip, keeping him still.

"Michael," Alex whines, and Michael knows he's close as he lets go of his hand, fingers suddenly in his hair, pushing hard into his curls as Michael hollows his cheeks out as he works. " _Fuck_. I - I'm gonna-"

He does, emptying into Michael's mouth and down his throat in hot bursts, and Michael swallows it down until he feels Alex go boneless above him, letting Alex slip out of his mouth, and crawling up his body capture him in a kiss, their bodies pressed together tightly, the contact needed in the haze of orgasms. Foreheads touching, they breathe into the non-existent space between them, and Michael just keeps pushing forward, kissing Alex, unable to help himself.

He extracts himself after a minute, leaving a kiss on the palm of Alex's hand as he moves from underneath Alex's arm, and walks into the bathroom, filling one of the glasses they leave for brushing their teeth with cold water before retrieving a washcloth and running it under the hot water in the sink.

Walking back towards the bed, Michael pauses to stare down at Alex, who hasn't moved, but is watching him, eyes focused only on him, and he smiles, sitting back down on the bed putting the water glass on the nightstand and setting about cleaning Alex up first, running the washcloth between his legs and getting every part of Alex, before he's satisfied enough to turn and clean himself up.

The washcloth is chucked somewhere in the direction of the laundry hamper, but Michael is unconcerned where it lands - a problem for later like the dishes on the table. He watches as Alex pushes himself up finally, taking the cold glass of water, and chugging half of it, holding out the remainder for Michael.

"Did you touch yourself at all while I was gone?"

Michael doesn't answer, just drops the glass back on the table, and lays down on the bed next to Alex, wrapping an arm around his front, as Alex's hand makes it's way back into his curls.

"I tried," Alex continues in the silence, fingertips gently massaging into his scalp, and Michael can't think of anything else, just focuses on the touch and how good it feels, and listens to Alex's voice. "Didn't take."

Michael knows the feeling, and buries his face into Alex’s chest.

Eventually, Alex slips downward on the bed, and Michael rearranges himself so their heads are next to each other, foreheads just inches apart as they begin to let exhaustion take over. For the first time in a week, Michael feels like he can fall asleep, like he's not going to be up tossing and turning, and needing to press his nose into some article of clothing of Alex's just to trick himself.

"I took one of your work shirts with me," Alex says into the darkness of the bedroom as Michael feels himself drifting off. "So I could fall asleep to your scent - that smell of petrichor from your skin - and imagine we weren't miles and miles apart."

"Did it work?"

"No."

Michael smiles, leaning his head down and pressing a kiss to Alex's shoulder.

"It didn't for me either." He pauses, lips still against the skin, and thinks of everything that happened during the week Alex was gone. "I slept in the Airstream one night."

There's no sound in the room save their breathing, and Michael waits to see how Alex will react. He didn't plan on admitting it, but that was mostly before he knew Alex had just as hard a time as him being apart.

He feels less pathetic knowing Alex missed him too.

"I just," he starts, pulling back slightly on the pillows. "I missed you. I know we've gone longer, been apart longer but I wake up next to you these days and fall asleep next to you, and now it just felt-"

"Like something was missing."

"Yeah, Alex. _You_."

He hears Alex's laugh, a quiet thing in the darkness of the bedroom, and feels the bed move as Alex shifts even closer.

"It's how it was for me too. I almost broke the communication blackout the third night because I missed you." Foreheads pushed together, Alex presses their lips together, once twice three times, and Michael reaches out, hand on Alex’s hip, pulling them closer. "Didn't sleep a whole lot."

Michael smiles in the dark, can hear the words Alex _isn’t_ saying. They’re a work in progress, and Alex especially is learning to open up to him more, even when he believes it’s not something Michael needs to hear. And Michael know he’s learning to read what Alex isn’t saying with his words, and focusing on how he responds with his touch.

They fall asleep, legs tangled, heads leaning toward one another, Alex pressed up against Michael’s side, and it’s the best sleep both of them have had in a week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
